


jfk gets his back blown out

by aboringcliche



Category: Clone High
Genre: Blow Jobs, Boys in Skirts, Degradation, Established Relationship, F/M, Femdom, Pegging, Riding, Smut, Song: Pain Is So Close To Pleasure, femboy jfk supremacy, innit, jfk wants joan to fuck him so bad it makes him look stupid, porn w no plot, rough sex lol, sex lol, tags on ao3 are ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:02:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27555781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aboringcliche/pseuds/aboringcliche
Summary: pegging fic cause i can <3
Relationships: JFK/Joan of Arc (Clone High)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 100





	jfk gets his back blown out

jfk, as you can probably imagine, was never really one for subtlety. it was a huge part of why joan loved him - he was over-the-top (and adorable about it), and he didn’t bs. she always knew exactly what he wanted from her. but this time was different. 

it started a few days ago. he was laying flat on his bed and she was on top, riding him and spelling her name with her hips. she leant in to kiss his lips sloppily, both of them moaning softly, as usual. but then, as she pulled away to kiss down his neck, he started humming. 

he started softly, so softly that she was sure she must have imagined it. he was definitely loud in bed, obviously. he would moan and whimper and occasionally scream, but he never _hummed._ she didn’t let it faze her, but looked down at him in confusion as she kept going. he met her eyes, smirking at her and humming louder between moans. he was challenging her.

“jack.” she started, speeding up her movement suddenly. jfk whimpered slightly in surprise, before adjusting to the new speed. 

“joansey?”

“hum louder.” she knew jfk loved it when she took control, and it worked. he moaned deeply and hummed louder, just loudly enough for her to make out the tune. “good boy.” she smiled at him lovingly for a moment, before slapping him in the face.

 _”fuck!”_ he cursed under his breath. “that was, er, cold, of arc.”

she grinned proudly. “i try my best.”

the presidential clone started whimpering and moaning some “er”s and “uh”s under his breath, to tell joan he was close. she sped up and whispered encouraging words and “you’re doing so well for me” in his ear until he felt his stomach coil and his toes curl. she leant back a bit and watched his face as he reached his climax, admiring the way his eyes rolled back and his mouth hung open. when he came down from his high she played with his hair and and kissed him softly.

she reached her own high not long after, and soon they were lying next to eachother, completely naked. they high-fived enthusiastically and she cuddled into him, appreciating the hot feeling of his skin against hers. “so. what was that song?” she asked, reaching over him for the glass of water she had thoughtfully left for them on the bedside table.

she took a sip and handed it to jfk, who had a knowing smirk on his face. “figure it out.” he took a large sip of the water, before handing it back to joan.

 _okay,_ she thought, taking another sip. _challenge accepted._

* * *

the topic came up again a couple days later, when joan was sucking him off.

 _”fuck.”_ he moaned as joan removed her mouth to kiss his tip, before taking him back in. “you’re so good at this, joansey.”

she moved away again. “i know.” she whispered, grinning up at him despite herself. she was honestly impressed by how quickly she had learned how to do that. anyways, now wasn’t the time to be impressed by her own sexual abilities. she took him in her mouth again, sucking and lapping at him a bit with her tongue. 

he threw his head back and whined, playing with joan’s hair and gently fucking into her mouth, laughing at the gagging sound she made. “cute.” he giggled, to which she responded by flipping him off. as she bobbed her head, he started humming again, which joan immediately recognised as the song from the night before. she listened absent-mindedly as she sucked, enjoying the tune and how cute he sounded as he moaned in between notes.

“mmmgh!” she moan-yelled suddenly, pulling off of his dick with a loud “pop!”

jfk didn’t bother hiding his disappointment. “joansey! i was, er, real close.”

“my bad.” she laughed. “but can you repeat the bit you were just humming?” 

she returned once again to sucking him off, as jfk repeated the chorus he was just humming slightly louder than before. the song turned out to be _pain is so close to pleasure_ by queen. excited that she had figured it out, she began humming along with him. jfk whined loudly at the sudden vibrations, and she grinned to herself around his dick as he grabbed her hair tighter.

she hummed louder and louder, feeling her boyfriend fall apart. “f- _fuck._ i, er... _fuck,_ w-wow.”

sensing he was close again she hummed faster and louder, choking as she felt him fuck the back of her throat harder and harder. finally he came, whining her name and shaking all over. they relaxed in that position for a moment, before joan moved away with another satisfying "pop!". he looked down at her as she swallowed slowly, smirking back up at him. 

_“shit.”_ was all he could say. 

she grinned as if to say "i know right!" and sat next to him, kissing him passionately so he could taste himself on her tongue.

“so.” she broke the kiss after a moment and high fived him, leaning on his shoulder. “pain is so close to pleasure, huh?” he hummed, still grinning down at her dopily, high from his intense orgasm. “is that a hint?”

“it, er, could be.” he blushed ever-so-slightly, but remained unfazed.

“are you saying you want me to hurt you, kennedy?”

“would that, er uh, be okay?” he looked at her seriously. he knew how important consent was, and he super super didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

she nodded her head and kissed his shoulder reassuringly. “more than okay.” she paused for a moment, before admitting “was kinda hoping you would ask that, actually. i kinda have some ideas. i'm not sure if you'd be into it but..” she trailed off, her face turning a cute shade of pink. kennedy may not be subtle, but she sure as hell was. she was large! she contained multitudes! there was a reason no one ever understood what her films were about, or knew what she was gonna do or say next.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

he grinned at his girlfriend and kissed the top of her head affectionately. “i, er, look forward to hearin' about em.”

* * *

“you trust me, right?” joan's eyes met jfk's and she stared him down. it was an expression jfk hadn't seen before, all harsh and venomous and downright terrifying. he whimpered slightly in intimidation, before covering his mouth.

“s-sorry. joa- er, miss. sorry.” he took a moment to calm his nerves a bit. _come on, kennedy._ he thought. _all she's done is, er, look at ya. you want this._ and he did. god, he really, really fucking wanted this. and she looked so beautiful, so fucking beautiful and terrifying and hot and intimidating and fucking _perfect_ and- god was he sweating? he shook his head, freeing himself of any bad thoughts and preparing for whatever his girlfriend had in mind. “i, uh, yeah. yeah, i trust ya.”

sensing his nerves, joan moved closer to the bed her boyfriend was sat on, and bent in front of him to whisper in his ear. “tell me to stop at anytime and i will, okay? i love you.” he nodded, whimpering again slightly, which she took as an okay signal to proceed. she bit his ear and slipped her fingers under his shirt, running them over his body slowly and appreciating the way he shivered and trembled at such a slight touch. jfk felt her hot break on the back of his neck as she brushed her fingers over his nipples. without warning she took one of them between two of her fingers, a high pitched moan escaping his lips as she twisted it hard enough to make his head tip backwards in pleasure and his back arch. she moved her other hand towards his other nipple and smirked as he gasped at the intensity of having them both twisted at once.

joan climbed into his lap, noticing how hard he was already. “cute.” she teased.

“er, thank y- _fuck._ ” he was interrupted by her twisting his nipples again, harder this time. god, she was really milking this. he didn't blame her - he wanted this moment to last as long as possible. she moved her hands away from jfk's chest and pulled his shirt over his shoulders, moving in closer and closing the gap between them completely. she was still fully clothed, but the heat from his skin was still enough to drive her crazy. 

speaking of driving people crazy, she moved her one of her hands from his shouder to tug on his hair. lightly at first, but soon he felt his head getting jolted further and further back as he winced. she leant in and pretended to kiss him softly for a moment, before biting his lip hard. she pulled back and smiled at him venomously, appreciating how red and swollen his lips were. “still sure about this, kennedy?” she asked, tracing her fingers lightly over his chest and neck and pursing her lips. she was making fun of him. she was making fun of him and he was loving every minute of it. “you're still sure you wanna go through with this?”

“ _yes_ miss.” he was struggling to breathe. “p-please. _fuck._ i, er, want this. so bad. need it. please.”

she grinned down at him, but not in her usual kind-spirited way. it was meaner. more intimidating. “good boy.” she whispered, leaning down and pecking him on the lips quickly, before reaching for his crotch. she began rubbing him through his pants, just enough to give him some form of friction, but not nearly enough to relieve any of his pent-up arousal. he cursed under his breath as she kept going, knowing how much the restraint of his clothes was bothering him. _“aw”_ she mocked, looking down at him in disgust. “does someone have a problem?” 

jfk could only whimper and nod. “my, er, clothes.” he whispered, his words barely audible. “ _please_ miss. i can't- _fuck._ ” she was rubbing him faster, and he felt himself nearly choke on his own moans. he was close. _shit,_ he was close already. joan looked down at him silently. her expression was unreadable, but he was sure she knew he was dangerously close to climaxing already. she smirked teasingly. 

“ _god_ you're pathetic, kennedy.” she said, maintaining eye contact as she finally unzipped his pants. she pulled them down just enough to properly appreciate the bulge in his boxers. “what? you're gonna cum? already?” she practically spat at him, watching him shake in stunned silence. “barely even touched you. fucking slut.” she whispered the last part, honestly surprising both herself and jfk, but he seemed to like it.

actually, he seemed to _really_ like it.

she touched him through his underwear for a short moment, before pulling his dick out. “you're not allowed to cum, okay? not yet. not until i say. got it?”

“mhm!” he nodded overenthusiastically.

joan nodded back, but still kept her touches slow and soft. she wanted to get him off more than anything, but she had plans. she couldn't have him completely spent just from _this._ so she teased him, jerking him off ever-so-slightly, barely even touching him. whenever he started absent-mindedly fucking into her hand, she would move it away completely to remind him to behave. she switched from degrading him to praising him, telling him what a “good boy” he was one minute, then calling him a “dumb fucking whore” the next. it was a weird mix, but it definitely worked.

soon enough he had started leaking precum all over his chest and her shirt, and she knew she had to act fast. she moved away suddenly, her heart skipping a beat at the disappointed whimper that came out of her boyfriend's mouth. “not long now. you're being so good for me, baby.” she reassured him, patting his head softly. then, without warning, she slapped his face, harder than ever before, hard enough to leave a satisfying red mark.

“ _fuck._ thank you, miss.”

she hummed in response and walked to the other side of the room, looking for something she had brought over earlier. wasting no time, she pulled her shirt and pants off unceremoniously as she brought the objects back over to the bed. jfk took a minute to admire her body and how perfect she looked in just her underwear, before his eyes turned to the things in her hands. “is that-”

“a skirt?” she finished his sentence for him, the venomous gaze from earlier returning in her eyes. “yes.”

he nodded slowly. “and, er, that?”

“you'll find out.”

“ _fuck._ okay.”

she kicked off her panties and discarded them on the floor, and jfk smiled to himself at the huge wet stain he saw. god, he wanted to get her off so badly. he almost felt bad-she had been doing all _this_ for him, and he hadn't done anything for her. he vowed to at least eat her out or something as soon as this was done. “still up for anything, kennedy?” she checked one last time, reaching for the lube next to his bed, and watching his face intently.

“yes miss.” he nodded quickly. she smirked and watched his eyes widen as she got the other thing she had prepared. she stepped into this large belt thing and tightened it around her bare waist. he felt his stomach flip as he watched her attach the dildo to the end. she had a dick. joan had a dick.

 _“fuck.”_ he whispered as he took in the sight of his girlfriend with a dick attached to her. truth is, she looked _mesmerising,_ staring straight into his soul like that, still in her bra and with that huge belt-thing on. she was so breathtaking in fact, that jfk initially forgot to consider what this meant for him.

he was taken back to reality when she kissed him on the lips quickly and commanded him to lie back on the bed, a devilish look in her eyes. she pulled down the pants and boxers from around his ankles and picked up the skirt, which she had discarded for a moment. she pulled it over his legs, moaning a bit under her breath despite herself at how fucking _good_ his erection looked in a skirt. “god, you're perfect, kennedy.” she whispered, unable to stop herself from breaking character.

“you're the perfect one, joansey.” he looked up at her with tired, hooded eyes. “please, miss. i, er, want you. so so bad.”

she nodded. “good boy.” she whispered softly. she poured some lube on her fingers and instructed him to bend his knees and keep his legs apart. she then watched his face contort in pleasure as she finally inserted a finger. she did it slowly, savoring the moment and making sure he was comfortable. when she felt him relax she started moving her finger in and out. she went slow at first, before speeding up. jfk was completely overcome by the new sensation, whining loudly. he really hated to admit it, but he was already feeling that familiar coil in his stomach again. god, he hated being a teenager.

without warning she added a second finger, not even bothering to go slow. he hissed and arched his back as he adjusted to the new feeling. “how's that?” she smirked, knowing all too well that he wouldn't be able to answer. he simply nodded, biting hard on his already swollen lip in a desperate attempt to limit his whining. then, joan was moving her fingers a bit, kind of trying to find a new position and- _fuck._

 _“fuck!”_ he yelled as her curled fingers found his prostate. 

“there?” joan grinned to herself triumphantly.

“ _yeah._ f-fuck. er.” 

“awww.” she teased, savoring the moment and adding a third finger. god, she really loved how much of an effect she could have on him. “you're so desperate for me, aren't you, slut? _my_ slut.” he moaned at her possessiveness, his cock twitching beautifully against his stomach, leaking precum all over him. “you want me to fuck you, don't you? you want me to fuck you so bad.” he didn't say anything in response, so she slapped his leg hard, making him shake. “i _said,_ you want me to fuck you so bad. don't you?”

“ _fuck._ fuck, i do. please, er, fuck me. miss. _please._ ” 

she nodded in response and removed her fingers from inside him, laughing harshly at the disappointed groan that came out of him as she did so. “god. you really are desperate, huh?” she continued to tease him as she lined herself up with him, pouring lube on her hand and jerking her 'dick' a few times, making sure it was coated. “you sure you're ready, kennedy?” she checked, and he nodded violently. she took one last moment to stare at her desperate boyfriend, with his messed-up hair, swollen lips, and the precum that had leaked all over his perfect abs. his skirt was hitched up to show his thighs, and the tent his erection made was so obscene and perfect and only _she_ got to see it. he had some red marks on his face and chest from where she had held him or slapped him too hard. he was trembling, and his eyes were half-closed in pleasure. god, when did she get so lucky?

“you're so perfect, jack.” she whispered, once again breaking character, before finally pushing into him. she considered going slow again, but decided there was no fun in that. from the loud high pitched moan kennedy made, she knew she had made the right decision. she gave him a second to get adjusted before moving her hips in a slow but regular rhythm. jfk gasped and whined sharply at the weird sensation of feeling so fucking _full._ he tried his hardest to stay watching his girlfriend's cute, concentrated face as she fucked him, but he could barely keep his eyes open. not now, when she was speeding up and grabbing his legs so tightly and _fuck._

“there please, er, miss.” he whined. “there! _fuck-_ ”

she moved her hips harder and faster against his prostate, determined to make her boyfriend feel good.

and _god,_ did it feel good. it felt unreal, like nothing close to anything he'd ever felt. he honestly felt cheated that he hadn't done this before, but he was glad the first time was with joan. he couldn't imagine doing this with anyone else. he felt like he was on drugs, like none of this could possibly be real. when the _fuck_ did he get this lucky? and then her movements were speeding up even more, and she was smirking at him all cockily and he was cursing loudly and her hips were slamming against his and his cock was twitching from under the soft material of the skirt and _fuck_ he didn't want it to be over, not ever. but his stomach was coiling and his toes were curling and he was gripping the bedsheets desperately as he was fucked into them and he knew he wouldn't last any longer, he just couldn't. his whole body heated up.

“joan-”

she smiled down at him. as usual, she was ten steps ahead of him. “cum for me, baby. please.”

she didn't need to tell him twice. finally, he reached the climax he had been pining for for _ages,_ grinding his ass against joan's dick as she coaxed him through it. when he came down from his high joan let him lay there for a minute, stunned, before pulling out of him gently.

“ouch.” he whispered under his breath, overly sensitive from his intense orgasm.

joan removed the strap and discarded it on the floor. she also took off her bra and pulled of jfk's skirt for him, before climbing next to him in the bed so they could cuddle naked.

“so.” she started, leaning against the taller guy's shoulder.

“so.” he grinned down at her, his face still sweaty and his hair even more messed up than before. he reached up his hand lazily for a high five, and she rolled her eyes but complied. “i'm, er, afraid i ruined your skirt back there, joansey.”

she laughed, punching him in the shoulder lightly. “don't mention it.”

“so, that. that was, er uh, fun.”

“yeah. yeah, it really was.” she was slightly out of breath, but she was trying her best to hide it. “course, it was more fun for you than it was for me. i mean, you actually got an orgasm out of it.”

“ _shoot_ yeah.” he smiled apologetically. “i was gonna, er, eat you out or somethin'.”

“no need, but thank you kennedy.” she smiled. “i can get myself off. you sleep or something.”

“yeah?”

“duh.”

he smiled. “you're the best, of arc. please _god_ don't, er, let this be the last time we do this. okay?”

she smirked. “believe me, i'm not passing up a chance to do _that_ to you again.”

* * *

the following morning, joan was content to wake up in her boyfriend's arms. as per usual he was still asleep, and he had an arm around her protectively. she moved away from him gently, so as not to wake him, and assessed the damage of the mess they had made. she cleaned and put away her strap, and threw their clothes in the wash (but not before admiring the large stains her boyfriend had made on the skirt). 

she then dug through his closet. she pulled out one of the largest black hoodies she had ever seen, which was so big that it was even baggy on _jfk._ she took out one of her bras, which she must have left there one of the last times she stayed over. she then went to his underwear draw and pulled out two pairs of his boxers, those white ones with the hearts on them. she pulled on one pair and put on the bra, and then walked over to her sleeping boyfriend. somehow, she managed to get the hoodie and boxers on him without waking him, though she's sure she hears him say her name in his sleep. _cute._

finally, she knew just how to wake him up. she walked over to his record player and searched through his collection for the specific album she needed. she lifted the tonearm and moved it to the right track, and _pain is so close to pleasure_ started playing.

jfk opened his eyes to see his girlfriend dancing to the second chorus, a dumb grin on her face.

“idiot.” he laughed, chucking a pillow at her.

“says you.” she fired back, throwing the pillow back at him. to her joy it smacked him directly in his stupid, cute face. _“ha!”_

he flipped her off in response, and watched her silently as she danced until the end of the song. “you look cute in my underwear.”

“i _definitely_ pull it off better than you.”

“that you do.” he grinned, very visibly checking out her ass.

“yeah, yeah. you gonna join me here or not?”

jfk, as anyone else would be, was more than ready to join his girlfriend in dancing to random queen songs in their (well, his) underwear. but as he stood up, he felt himself shaking a little. figuring it was nothing, he took a large step, and fell face-first on the cold wooden floor.

“er, fuck!” he yelped as he stood back up and tried, in vain, to balance himself. he brushed off his arms and legs and tried to take another step, but fell over again. he held his bed not-so-gracefully and tried to walk like that, before giving up. he let himself fall onto his knees and crawled over to his girlfriend, wincing with every movement.

joan watched the whole ordeal incredulously, not bothering to contain her laughter. “holy _shit._ ”

“huh?” he furrowed his brows, confused. why was joan laughing at him? and why couldn't he walk, damnit. he sat in thought for a moment, before remembering the events of the night before.

“oh _shit._ ”

joan's laughter got louder as she doubled over, no longer caring about the dancing. “i totally broke you. i'm _so_ good!” she cleared her throat and put on her best (terrible) impression of her boyfriend. “i'm kennedy! i, er, got pegged last night. and now i can't move!” her voice went up at the end, classic kennedy style.

“hey, knock it off!” he pretended to be annoyed, but soon found himself joining in. “i'm in so much pain!” he laughed. “i literally can't fucking walk!” he wiped tears from his eyes and tried his hardest to stand up, only for his legs to give in again. “i can't believe you did this to me, _of arc!_ ”

she punched him lightheartedly. “don't act like you didn't want me to!” she laughed, mimicking his accent again. “ _fuck!_ please fuck me joansey!”

“yeah, yeah.” he grinned, swatting her with his hand. “god, what am i, er uh, gonna tell the guys at school?”

“that you got injured during sex. just leave out the whole 'me using a strap on you and blowing your fucking back out' thing. knowing them they'll probably be impressed.”

“good plan, joansey. good plan.”

**Author's Note:**

> guess who has two thumbs and a bunch of super important exams right now but chose to spend their revision time writing joanfk smut


End file.
